


Just a Wizard

by SunflowerRose22



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe, Because I apparently I can't just write smut without it, F/M, Note I don't call Agnieszka by a nickname because they aren't close, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, mercenary au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerRose22/pseuds/SunflowerRose22
Summary: Mercenary AU: I’ve admittedly been playing a lot of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey and I’m a sucker for pretty mercenary ladies seducing every willing male and female up and down the block. Which is unfortunate for Sarkan, however, as he’s not really good at sleeping without his heart on the line. Not anymore anyway.





	Just a Wizard

   “You seem a little tense,” Agnieszka said, a laugh lifting the edge of her words. 

   “I wonder why,” Sarkan muttered, his thumbs engraving circles into her thighs. He wasn’t used to this being on his back thing, nor did he often have a mercenary straddling his hips and looking particularly smug with herself as her calloused hands groped his bare chest. It also bothered him more than he liked to admit that he was currently the only one halfway stripped bare, with his jerkin and shirt somewhere on the wooden floor beneath them. Though she had shredded her armor and weapons the moment they crossed the threshold of her tavern room–right before she hoisted him around her hips and kissed him into the bed sheets–Agnieszka was still wearing her poet blouse and breeches. 

   He’d have to rectify that, if she gave him the chance. 

   “Where are these going?” she asked, catching his wandering hands before they could untuck her shirt. 

   “Surely you’ve explored enough of me to want to–,” he trailed off, trying to keep his voice even despite the anticipation droning through his veins. Agnieszka hummed a negative, the sound resonating through her lips as she kissed the creases of his fingers.  

   “It’s not often I have a wizard in my bed,” she commented absently. Her eyes flickered to his and Sarkan felt warmth flush from his cheeks to the curve of his stomach as she said, “One of such high breeding, no less.”

   “I can’t imagine there’s much difference, physically speaking,” Sarkan bluffed.

   “You’re so much smoother,” she sighed. Agnieszka dropped a hand to cup his jaw, her thumb running along the ridge of his mandible. Sarkan tipped his head back, letting her fingers press into the muscles of his throat down to his collarbone. “You’re built for perfection,” she purred before laughing at the lithe hum he made. 

   The sting of embarrassment heated Sarkan’s cheeks. He distinctly remembered her accusing him about having a praise kink before with a shit eating grin on her face. Part of him highly resented the notion that she knew how to make him sing. But that was also the part that lead him to her bed tonight, with a single promise to himself that he was never going to do it again. Well, as far as he knew anyway.    

   “Agnieszka,” he breathed, holding fast to the hand at his throat before she could trace his clavicle down to his sternum and unwind him even more. He needed a moment to think but couldn’t find a single thought to follow. 

   Instead, she took a hold of his hand and brought it to her mouth to kiss his knuckles. The tenderness of the motion gave him pause and any protests or doubts he might have had fell silent.

   She took her time stripping him bare. With the laces of his trousers undone by her teeth, Agnieszka made show of peeling them off, littering nips along his inner thigh. By the time she was done Sarkan had taken fistfuls of her own clothing and flung them away with a muttered spell. He pulled her down onto him, with her chest pressed against his, trying to catch her giggles with his mouth. 

   Sarkan tried unsuccessfully to stay quiet as she rocked against him.  _ Why was this affecting him so much? _ , he wondered as Agnieszka tested his length, sliding up and down it so slowly that Sarkan had to bury his nails into his palm to keep himself from thrusting into her. He suspected this play at shyness to be a plot to wring as much noise out of him as she could. If this was always her game, it was no wonder he had a hard time sleeping at night; what with the screams and gasps always coming from her room–

   A pang as sharp as a knife tore through Sarkan’s chest and for a moment he couldn’t breath. He sat up suddenly and Agnieszka’s squeak of surprise was muffled by his mouth as he kissed her. Not now. He didn’t want to think of that now. He tried desperately to replace his lost breath with hers, to memorize how it felt when she clenched around him.

   A patient but firm hand against his chest eased him back to the pillows and Sarkan realized how ragged he was becoming. Truthfully it had been decades since the last time someone had… cultivated such a need in him to touch and be touched. 

   At least she wasn’t playing with him anymore, forearms planted on either side of his head as she rode him with almost reckless abandonment. He was having a hard time meeting her thrusts with his own, feeling like he was being pressed into the sheets with her hot slick smearing between them. With her eyes screwed shut, he wondered if she was thinking of someone else. 

   “Agnieszka,” he pleaded. It suddenly became important for her to look at him, to see him. “Agnieszka,” he moaned, his voice cracking, reaching for her, cupping the curves of her body. 

   Her eyes flickered open, clouded with desire. She smiled. Then sunk her teeth into his shoulder. Sarkan sucked in a sharp breath, nails digging into her backside. The pain shocked and aroused him unexpectedly, causing his body temperature to spike considerably in response as he came. Distantly he was aware of smoke curling from his skin and of Agnieszka hissing through her teeth and clenching, wringing herself around him, but he was seeing lights dance as he threw his head back with thin, thready moans bubbling out of his throat.

   “Now that was something,” Agnieszka hummed as Sarkan regain control of his breathing. He was still involuntarily thrusting as the lingering ripples of his orgasm pulsed through him. It shook him how crisply he could still feel it. 

   “I think you nearly set the bed on fire,” she continued, fingering the light scorch marks on the sheets. Sarkan groaned and rather gracelessly collapsed onto the pillows. When he noticed the self-satisfied grin on her face he rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over his eyes. This damn woman. She had no business tasting like honey or being completed unfazed while he was unravelling at the seams.

   After a quiet moment, her arm hooked around his waist. 

   “I thought you didn’t cuddle,” Sarkan said quietly, not turning around.

   “I allow it occasionally,” she sighed contently, nestling up against him. Her hand ran circles along the dip of his stomach. At once Sarkan felt the drain of his orgasm catch up to him and, reluctantly, he allowed her to pamper him with praise. 

   It was only when her warm breath, that grazed over his shoulder, turned rhythmic did Sarkan roll over to consider her. The mass of her hair fell over her face, shrouding it like a veil. Gently, Sarkan took parts of it in his fingers and started to work through the knots. All the while he admired the softness of her face that came with sleep.

   In the quietness of the flickering candle lights, Sarkan found his thoughts drifting to more troubled topics. The more he looked, the more his heart swelled with longing. He thought of the soldier, the archer, the blacksmith, the sailor, the barmaid, and the gambler. Lovers with no name, just sighs and gasps through the thin walls of the tavern. 

   He reached up to brush a length of her hair away from her face, his fingertips against her cheek. 

   A hand took hold of his, stopping him. Agnieszka's eyes had fluttered open. 

   “Sarkan,” she began gently, a pang of surprise and pity in her voice. 

   Sarkan clutched his hand to his chest, feeling like he’d just been burned. He sat up quickly, despite the protests his body made.  

   A thousand apologizes came and died in his mouth as he jumped off the bed. 

   “Sarkan-” she began again but he was already out the door, magic spinning clothes over his body. He didn’t stop until he was safe behind the click of his own door. 

   There was no sign that she was coming after him. It was better this way, he reasoned. He pressed a hand to his mouth, willing the feeling of her lips to go away. 

   He didn’t want to be just the wizard. 

**Author's Note:**

> For fun world building in case anyone ever wants to play in this AU, Agnieszka is a mercenary who lives in a town near the Polyna and Rosya border. She used to be a soldier for Polyna but, after four years of fighting skirmishes on the front, is willing to do anything to not return to that life. Sarkan and Solya are in the area investigating some disturbances between the borders. Kasia is a travelling balladeer (like she always wanted) who just happened to be in town. Of course with Agnieszka involved, hijinks ensue in the presence of the Wood, rumors about the missing queen, and magic.


End file.
